


You wanna take a drink of that promise land (You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands)

by anythingcanhappenchild



Series: Soldier [2]
Category: Arrow (TV 2012), DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: (about Eden and the related story), (basing accuracy off what I know about the church's current view point), (different style from the last work), (don't listen to Sara's self-hate she's actually awesome), (slightly less vague references than the last work), Angst, Constructive Criticism Welcome, F/F, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, NOT Second Person POV, POV Third Person, Past Abuse, References to the Amazo, Sara Lance Needs a Hug, Sara Lance is a Fighter, Sara in the League, Sara is the Canary, Unreliable Narrator, but it happened, but neither person is very religious so their renditions aren't strictly accurate, idk how this is a story now, sara gets some help deciding to keep fighting, so apparently this is a series now, some general christian religious imagery, this started as three lines of dialog for a different story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-02
Updated: 2018-12-02
Packaged: 2019-09-05 11:24:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16809664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anythingcanhappenchild/pseuds/anythingcanhappenchild
Summary: She’d seen nothing but the League’s cave system for so long, even a brief glimpse outside would have been beautiful enough. But the snow topped branches and frost covered ground surpassed beauty, it was truly breathtaking.And lived above a slaughterhouse.Or, no, rather the whole world was these people’s slaughterhouse. This beautiful place lived above the training camp for their butchers.ORNyssa tries to convince Sara to fight, and they both learn a little more about each other.





	You wanna take a drink of that promise land (You gotta wipe the dirt off of your hands)

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from Fleurie - Soldier. 
> 
> This is apparently a series now! Figures the one story I _wasn't_ planning a follow up on is the first one I continue!
> 
> Sara thinks about her time on the Amazo and expresses her typical level of self-hate. I don't believe there are any other warnings but if I missed something please tell me.

Sara couldn’t help but expect the worst as Nyssa pulled her by the wrist out of the League’s underground city. Or, at least, expect the worst she could come up with, which, as she’s learned many times recently, isn’t nearly as bad as it could be. 

Her eyes widened, however, when Nyssa simply stepped aside, her expression almost vulnerable, as if she could ever be truly vulnerable, and gestured to the picture unfolding before Sara’s eyes. 

“See Sara, there is beauty here,” Nyssa whispered drawing as close to Sara as she dared. And Sara had to admit, she wasn’t lying. She’d seen nothing but the League’s cave system for so long, even a brief glimpse outside would have been beautiful enough. But the snow topped branches and frost covered ground surpassed beauty, it was truly breathtaking. 

And lived above a slaughterhouse.

Or, no, rather the whole world was these people’s slaughterhouse. This beautiful place lived above the training camp for their butchers.

She laughed softly, disdainfully, and watched as Nyssa’s face fell. “You’re right, it is beautiful. A real Garden of Eden. Right above Hell. Tell me Nyssa did you slaughter the lambs to take hold of it, or were you the snake in the beginning.”

(It made sense too, that such people could take a paradise and turn it cold and lifeless. And still, somehow, beautiful.)

Nyssa’s jaw clenched, and Sara hated that other’s expressions could still send a thrill of fear through her. It was logical of course, Nyssa was perhaps the single most dangerous woman Sara had ever met, and safer, she ducked before every blow now, for all she ducked when none came too. 

Still, Sara missed the days when such an expression would have her rolling her eyes, or better yet, when she missed the expressions all together. But Anthony trained that out of her quite quickly, unintentionally for sure, but still, she learned.

(She is, in fact, capable of learning.)

And for that very reason, Sara now quickly backs a few steps from Nyssa, trying to disguise her need for retreat as an impulse to examine the trees. 

(And if that wasn’t _entirely_ a disguise, well, she hadn’t been outside in months. She’d allow herself the frivolity.)

But as she glanced back to her captor, she saw only pity, not anger. Which, inexplicably, Sara was far more upset about. She wasn’t sure why, she knew how to manipulate Anthony’s pity within days of becoming his ~~pet~~ ally. And she knew how to garner it within weeks.

For some reason though, the idea of using Nyssa’s pity, of even being pitied by her, despite being subjected to it already, after all, it certainly wasn’t compassion that saw Sara being force fed back to health, made her nauseous, and irrationally, inexplicably, angry.

Before she had a chance to err in expressing this newfound emotion, Nyssa spoke, “Neither. We are what was left.” And Sara knew, she knew, the League had no need for religion, although she was certain Ra’s ensured his charges understood them all, if for no other reason than tormenting people with their beliefs could be more effective than torturing their bodies, and in truth, Sara hadn’t need of it either.

Still, she couldn’t help the next words that spilt out of her mouth, “What? The Lions then?” disbelief hanging from her tone. She hadn’t pegged Nyssa as a fanatic, not even truly crazy, but if she really believed herself a God, supposedly-immortal-father be damned, she’d have to revise her opinion.

“No,” she responded quietly, “the damned.”

Oh, Sara’s breath caught. For perhaps the first time, when she looked at Nyssa, she really saw her. Sara knew Nyssa thought her actions necessary, righteous even, but looking at her now, Sara realized she also knew herself condemned. And Lord help Sara if she didn’t know the horrors that lie at the intersection of necessary and justifiable. 

Lord help her victims.

And until now, she thought Nyssa hated her. The pathetic American she’d brought back on a whim, on the bet that Sara was a fighter – and she wasn’t, she was a survivor, but that’s not the same thing. Hated the girl who’d become her responsibility, who took too long to get up after being knocked down, who’s failures became Nyssa’s failures. 

Until now, Sara thought Nyssa had been trying to convince her to fight, thought she brought her here, simply for self-preservation, to ensure Sara’s defeat did not end with her own punishment. 

But now, now Sara thought that perhaps, just maybe, Nyssa had been fighting so hard to make Sara choose to fight, because she cared for her, thought her important or necessary, or maybe just cared about her enough not want her dead.

(And maybe, considering where they are, that meant she cared _a lot_.)

And maybe that was nice feeling, Nyssa knows what Sara’s done, everything she hates about herself, listened as Ra’s forced the confessions out of her, and still seems to think she was better off alive.

Of course, she’s also trying to convince Sara to do more of those things she hates herself for.

(She’s starting to feel certain heroes don’t exist. Everyone who was trying-to-save-the-world have been the worst people Sara’s ever known.)

(And maybe it still feels nice.)

But she couldn’t help but scoff, “And what, you going to tell me some great secret about being damned? Tell me it’s righteous to go out and murder people? You talk about keeping the peace but even you can’t pretend that this, this _fucking cult_ , is righteous or justified or, or good.”

And yeah throwing what was clearly a confession back in Nyssa’s face probably wasn’t the nicest thing to do, but no one’s ever accused Sara of being a good person.

And seeing the hurt reflected on Nyssa’s face definitely didn’t make it at all hard to continue her rant, not at all, “And you want to make me one of the damned, then? Teach me how to be a snake or slaughter little lambs, then?”

And finally, she had to stop, panting for breath and waiting for the inevitable fall out from her outburst. She started to wonder if Nyssa inherited any of Ra’s cruelty, if it strengthened or weakened after being subjected to it, but forced the thoughts away. She’d find out soon enough.

Which made a gentle hand cupping her cheek even more jarring, “No,” Nyssa whispered, “you are more of a lamb than I have seen for a while, more than I expected really,” and her sharp eyes flickered across Sara’s face at that, leaving her to wonder what part of strapping-a-bomb-to-a-man’s chest made Nyssa think her innocent, or pure, “but I can teach you to pretend,” she continued, jarring Sara’s attention back to Nyssa, and her thumb, which was now rubbing tight circles on Sara’s jaw, “if you would like.”

“And why would I want that,” Sara replied, her voice faint and far away, too much of her attention focused on the soft touch from Nyssa’s hand, and almost all the rest wondering if it would turn into a hard slap, just as she started to sink into it.

“Because you know fear,” she responded, and suddenly Sara’s focus was much sharper, directed on the exceptionally threatening woman whose hand was far too close to Sara’s throat. Not that she needed to be close at all, Nyssa could kill her before she could even gather breath to protest, at least with Anthony or Slade she would have had time to beg, even if she hated the words, and herself, every time she was forced to. “And I cannot teach you not to be afraid, but I can teach you to pretend. And perhaps, one day, you will start to believe it.”

And finally, her hand fell away, as she backed a few steps from Sara. “Your first test is in the morning. You will not survive if you do not choose to do so. You will be caught and returned if you try to escape.” She was forcing the hardness back into her voice, and Sara couldn’t help but quirk an eyebrow, not long-ago Nyssa would have laughed at the idea of Sara managing to create an escape plan, much less insinuate she’d be initially successful. “You have been surviving so far Sara, it is time to start fighting.”

She left as another layer of snow started to cover the barren branches.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Any and all feedback (including constructive criticism) is very welcome! And highly appreciated!!


End file.
